


Venus In Furs

by jimmason



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Blood, Death, F/F, F/M, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-neutral Reader, Genderbending, Murder, Nipple Play, Non-Graphic Smut, Nudity, Sensation Play, Spit Kink, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:09:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28715535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jimmason/pseuds/jimmason
Summary: Female Michaels (or Michaelas) nightly ritual of snooping around Outpost 3 gets a bit steamy and gory.
Relationships: Fem!Michael Langdon & reader, Fem!Michael Langdon & you, Fem!Michael Langdon/Reader, Fem!Michael Langdon/you, Female Michael Langdon & reader, Female Michael Langdon & you, Female Michael Langdon/reader, Female Michael Langdon/you, Michael Langdon & Reader, Michael Langdon & You, Michael Langdon/Reader, Michael Langdon/You, Michaela Langdon & reader, Michaela Langdon & you, Michaela Langdon/reader, Michaela Langdon/you
Kudos: 1





	Venus In Furs

**Author's Note:**

> another from my tumblr that i ADORE and before michaela was michaela!

Dozens of pillar candles lined the bedroom and gave the faintest hint of light from the tiny lit wicks, . A candelabra stood proudly on the jet black vanity with crimson red detailing, the candles outlining the delicate and almost angelic features of Michael. She sat on the leather bench in front of the vanity, nude, observing her face in the mirror's reflection. She slipped on her signature statement rings, slipping them past her manicured nails and adjusting them to sit correctly on her slender fingers, taking a second to admire the jewels that glinted in the candlelight. Her hands gingerly grasped another expensive piece that was perched on the tabletop, a silver choker in the form of a coiled-up snake with rubies in the carved out eye sockets on the jewelry that shone in the eerie light. She unhinged the piece and placed it around her throat, the tail and head of the silver snake tickling the tops of her collarbones. She wandered over to her bed that had her nightly outfit set out, a flowing red mesh robe with the softest red fur lining all openings of the garment and next to it a pair of elegant heeled Louboutins in the style Impera. Michael glided the sheer material over her bare body, the mesh doing nothing to hide conceal her modesty, whipping her hair out from under the clothing once it sat properly atop her shoulders. She fit the robe to her waist with a satin ribbon, tying it into a bow to highlight her desirable figure. The woman laced up the pricey pair of heels and went on her way to do her night “bed checks”; basically just seeing who’s out of their room and not where they’re supposed to be, using this opportunity to tease and torture the disobeying outpost residents, a favourite pastime of hers.

Before heading out of her room, she snatched the candelabra and holding it to her side, feeling the warmth of the flames lapping at her naked skin through the revealing robe. The heels menacingly clicked against the wood underneath her feet as she strolled down the grand staircase, the long train of her robe drifting behind her. Michaels eyes lazily drifted around the common room of the outpost, quickly setting her eyes on a purple that rested themselves on the couch, not the highest ranking or memorable of them but a purple nonetheless. The golden hair seductress smirked and inhaled deeply, her mind glazing over with vague images of the torture she could inflict on the purple. Her hips elegantly swayed as she stepped closer to the resident, exaggerating the bounce of the robe and the taps of her leather heels.

The purple seemed to be in a mindless haze before they heard the ominous sounds of the heels striking against the floors of the outpost. The resident turned their head back and saw the unmistakable form of Ms. Langdon standing at the doorway of the common room, her silhouette being backlit by the fire from the candles decorating the wall behind her. Michael watched how uncomfortable and squirmy the purple got, causing a sinister smile to plaster across her face. The two stood in place for a moment while holding eye contact, it seemed like it lasted decades till Michael finally pressed forward and circled around to the trembling being on the worn couch, running her fingertips and nails over the purple-clad shoulders of the person. Michael gripped the others shoulder with her empty hand and closed in on the purple,

“Disobeying ms. Venable now are we?” her voice sounding rich and soft, almost velvety in their ear. The purple shook their head nervously at the woman now looming above them, not even noticing the lack of clothing covering her skin. The resident was suddenly forced onto the floor, tumbling to Michael's heels, too in shock at the whole situation to even register what the hell threw them. Michael set the candle holder down on the table closest to them, her sights never leaving the person at her feet. She knelt to the purple and stretched her arm out to her victim, running her lengthy claws under their jawline and soon having her fingertips arrive to their lips, petting their bottom lip with her thumb. The person was still shaking faintly, now with the new mixture of confusion and lust adding to the terror that shook them, yet leaning into Michael's touch and her toy with their lip. Michael parted her pillowy lips, deeply inhaling with her mouth and chuckling wickedly.

‘You’re so touched starved, aren’t you?” tilting her head, almost giving a sympathetic gaze and looking the other up and down until she leaned in “I can smell it; your lustful desires, your arousing fantasies, your need get fucked till your brain is fucking mush. Isn’t that right, my desperate little subject?” She spat, tracing her sharp tipped thumb down their chin.

The purple was calmed enough at this point and more intrigued by the enticing woman that was giving them her undivided attention. Caught off guard by the sudden yank and sting tickling at their scalp, soon realizing that it was Michaels hand tangled in their hair with a sharp force. The pull on their scalp made them look up at the blonde woman that stood over their weak, in comparison, looking form. Michael arched her spine down to be face to face with the purple, just barely sweeping across the other's lips, tightening her grip on the purples hair as the other grew more flustered. The additional pressure applied to their scalp made them let out the neediest sounds, causing their mouth to gape wide open in a perfect circle. The blonde temptress swooped in on this opportunity and puckered her rosy lips, letting a wad of spit dribble down into the purples mouth. They choked a little, in shock of the sudden degrading move and at how it increased their ache for the dominating woman, gladly taking whatever she gave to them.

“So depraved,” she growled out, reveling in the control she had over the lower class citizen “now swallow every fucking drop, peasant.” harshly demanded. They obviously command her wishes, making her beam cruelly, “Keep it opened.” 

Snaking her opposite hand to their throat then their opened mouth, dipping her index and middle finger into the damp vessel. She didn’t have to order the submissive being to wet her fingers, which pleased her and fed into her power over them. They got a little too eager for Michael's liking, removing her fingers with displeasure written all over her face. Michael pushed the mesh off of one of one of her breasts, massaging it light with the hand briefly before dragging the saliva drenched digits over her perky nipples, never breaking eye contact with the person on their knees. Broken gasps and whines were all that the purple could muster out, along with the feverish rut of their hips at the sight. Michael smirked down at that while still playing with the unclothed hard bud, shaking her head at the deprived noises and actions of the other. The purple was too entranced with everything about this woman; her hair, her lack of clothing, her divine feminine and masculine aura, so distracted that they didn’t notice Michael quickly reaching at the back of her Louboutin and pulling a short paring knife that was sheathed in between the beginning of the heel and the inner sole of the shoe. She took advantage of the purples almost hypnotized and googly eyed trance to jab the weapon in the center of their chest.

“I believe this is where we part, sweetling.” tilting her head and relishing in the scratchy sobs and gurgled screams. Michael huffed out a malicious laugh, something like a cartoon villain would. Twisting the knife deeper into their chest and growing impatient at how time consuming their death way, eventually just snapping their neck with a click of her fingers like it was a chicken bone. Michael tore the knife from their chest and let them fall back, the knife and her grip on it being the only thing holding their torso upright. The antichrist took a second to appreciate her work before stepping over the corpse, tsking and shaking her head while placing her breast back into the robe. She gazed at the knife with curiosity, shifting it back and forth and watching it glint in the glow of the candles. Michael leaned into the knife-like she was going in for a bite of food, sticking her tongue out and laying long licks along the blade, leaving it spotless as she pulled it away. The knife once again clean and shining, catching her distorted reflection it in and snickering. She brought her expensive heel to the body's neck, firmly pressing her foot down.

“Pathetic.”


End file.
